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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28318860">Home</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverWing15/pseuds/SilverWing15'>SilverWing15</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Journey [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dream SMP - Fandom, Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Big Bro Techno, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Philza will probably show up later, Soft Technoblade, can't miss an opporitunity for that good good dadza content, so much fluff fam, to make up for the angst in the other parts lol</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 02:21:28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,590</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28318860</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverWing15/pseuds/SilverWing15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Literally just Technoblade and Raccooninnit fluff. </p><p>Chapter 1: He isn’t looking for it. He doesn’t care what Tommy does with all the shit that he steals, he’s given up on getting any of that back. He knows that Tommy carries a lot of junk on him, but a lot of it also simply vanishes never to be seen again and Techno lets it go. Thing is, now he’s standing over a chest that has a good bit of stuff he’d given up as missing and there’s no way that he can pretend that he didn’t find it.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Technoblade &amp; TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Journey [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2073108</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>81</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1748</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Completed stories I've read, Found family to make me feel something</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Hoard</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>all fluff all the time fam!!<br/>Except for when my angst instincts take over, sorry guys.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>He isn’t looking for it. He doesn’t care what Tommy does with all the shit that he steals, he’s given up on getting any of that back. He knows that Tommy carries a lot of junk on him, but a lot of it also simply vanishes never to be seen again and Techno lets it go. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy is touchy about his stuff (which used to be Techno’s stuff) so Techno does his best to keep his nose out of it. He makes Tommy learn how to gather the ingredients and brew the potions for himself, but he doesn’t try to get the originals back. The golden apples he gives up as a lost cause, he can mine, he can tend to his orchard, its not a big deal. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Thing is, now he’s standing over a chest that has a good bit of stuff he’d given up as missing and there’s no way that he can pretend that he didn’t find it. He was </span>
  <em>
    <span>trying</span>
  </em>
  <span> to plant a new field, not get in the middle of Tommy’s hoarding tendencies. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He should just shove the chest into Tommy’s room and say nothing. That would be the best course of action. But he’s sure that he’s going to run into this kind of shit all over the base, he doesn’t want to have to deal with Tommy freaking out every time he accidentally finds a stash. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He thought he was just getting a raccoon in his base, not a rabid, traumatized, squirrel. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He should have kicked Tommy out into the snow. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Nooooo</span>
  </em>
  <span>. The voices whine, Techno sighs, he isn’t sure when they started liking Tommy more than him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Bury the chest again!</span>
  </em>
  <span> Some chime in but Techno has already covered why that is a terrible idea. Tommy will know and he’ll be even more on edge. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Take your stuff back,</span>
  </em>
  <span> mutters one of the cruler, grumpier voices. There is a general sense of disapproval aimed at that one. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Give him a place to keep it</span>
  </em>
  <span>, suggests another, Techno tends to think of this one as one of the younger ones. Kinder than the others, softer. And in this case, with better ideas. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Techno leans against his shovel thoughtfully, there’s space in the root cellar. He hardly uses it anyway, he’s got a spare lock in a chest somewhere--probably, Tommy might have it by now--he can just give Tommy the lock and all this crap can be over with. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>You’ve gone soft</span>
  </em>
  <span>. The voices laugh, there are a few of them who are derisive, but most of them sound almost fond.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They’re all wrong though, he is </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> going soft, he’s being </span>
  <em>
    <span>practical</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He doesn’t want to have to deal with this shit more than once. An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure or whatever. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Speaking of cure. Tommy’s face appears in the upper window and Techno can see the moment he realizes that his stash is in danger of being found. He pales dramatically and vanishes from the window, he slams the door open and sprints across the yard. “Techno!” he shouts, he sounds panicked, but then he skids to a stop and puts on the now familiar mask of annoying whiney kid. “I’m bored!” he complains, “we should--” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His eyes catch on the edge of the chest, uncovered already. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There is fear in his eyes when they meet Techno’s face, his hands are already shaking. This is </span>
  <em>
    <span>exactly</span>
  </em>
  <span> what Techno didn’t want to deal with. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t care,” he says before Tommy can open his mouth again, “just get it out of my field.” he digs the shovel into the dirt beside the chest and leaves it there. “I’m going to get something for you.” Tommy takes a step away, somehow managing to look even more scared, “its not something bad,” he clarifies, “its an actual gift so you can stop putting shit in my field, alright?” Tommy starts to look confused and Techno takes that as his cue to get out of there.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He leaves even though he needs to get this field planted soon, before winter really gets on them. It can wait a little while though. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>*** </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His heart feels like its going to break his ribs with how hard its beating against them. He doesn’t care. Techno doesn’t care. He found the box and he doesn’t care. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’s leaving, he’s not getting TNT, he’s getting something else. Tommy stares at Techno’s retreating back, waiting for him to turn around, to reveal that it was a lie and he is angry. He’s furious and he’s going to destroy all that Tommy has created, all that Tommy has managed to scrape together. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He can’t do that again, he can’t go through that again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Only Techno doesn’t turn around, he goes into the house and a few minutes later he comes out with something in his hand. Not explosives, not flint and steel, a metal padlock, with a single key stuck in the bottom. “Here,” he says and shoves it out in Tommy’s direction. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Numbly, Tommy takes it, the metal is still a little warm from Techno’s hand. He looks up at Techno’s face but he turns away, fiddling with the shovel. “You can keep your junk in the root cellar,” he says, “and lock it. That’s the only key. Just quit burying shit in the yard.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay,” Tommy says, he clutches the box and the padlock close. He darts away, but only makes it a few steps before he finds himself stopping and turning back to Techno. “Thank you.”  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Whatever,” Techno mutters, picking up the shovel again and digging it into the dirt. He hesitates, “is there anything else you need to get out of here?” He motions to the pegs that mark out where the new field will be. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy thinks back to all of his stashes--he’s learnt, he doesn’t keep all of his things in one place anymore. Not when they can all be destroyed so very easily. He has stashes of just  a few important things scattered around, there’s no way Techno could find them all without his help. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The lock is heavy in his hand, its a reassuring weight. “There’s  a couple,” he mutters. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Techno nods briskly and offers him the shovel, “then move them, I want to get this done before we’re too late in the season.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He doesn’t care. Tommy stole from him and hid things from him and he’s given him a lock so that he can do it better. He isn’t angry, and Tommy feels like he can breathe. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Nightmare</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>He looks over his shoulder and finally gets a look at Tommy. He’s standing in the shadow of the doorway, arms tightly crossed, like he’s hugging himself. There’s a hunted sort of look in his eyes, his breath is a bit faster than it should be. <br/>Ah. Shit.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“You’re still up?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Techno asks, looking up from his potion bench, “its only…” he looks out the window. The moon is clearly on its descent. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Time might have gotten away from him a bit. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m working, what are </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> doing up?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looks over his shoulder and finally gets a look at Tommy. He’s standing in the shadow of the doorway, arms tightly crossed, like he’s hugging himself. There’s a hunted sort of look in his eyes, his breath is a bit faster than it should be. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ah. Shit. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You were making too much noise,” Tommy says scowling, “can’t sleep through your potion shit.” </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Hug him</span>
  </em>
  <span>, the voices suggest. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span> Send him back to bed, you’re not his mother.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Right,” Techno says, ignoring both of those suggestions because they are equally terrible. “I’ll be sure to do my potions more quietly in the future,” he rolls his eyes, “but I’ve still got stuff to do tonight, so you’re gonna have to deal with it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy scoffs and comes a step further into the room, “what are you doing anyway? You got those villagers out of here. Thought you’d be done messing around with this stuff.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m refining the formula,” Techno says, he doesn’t go any further into it. The explanation will go far over Tommy’s head and he didn’t actually sign up to be a potions teacher, especially not in the middle of the night. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” Tommy mutters. He shifts his weight, Techno can hear the boards creaking. He doesn’t leave. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It must have been a bad one. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Since you’ve been using so much of my shit, how about you take inventory?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not your servant,” Tommy says, but there isn’t as much offence in it as there should be. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you’re gonna stay down here you are.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy slinks into the room, “fine, whatever,” he says, but the glance he flicks in Techno’s direction has just a hint of gratitude in it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Techno grunts and points him to the chest of the more harmless potion supplies. There’s no way he stays awake for long and the last thing he needs to do is dump his face in a pile of pufferfish spines. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There is absolutely no reason for him to kick out a chair next to him at the table for Tommy to work at. It would probably be easier if Tommy just counted the shit in the chest. He still does it and ignores the voices cooing about it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy sits next to him silently and begins counting. Techno pretends he doesn’t notice when they end up sitting shoulder to shoulder. Tommy has gained weight, he’s not the skeletal brat who tried to run out of Techno’s base, he’s got muscle and even a little fat now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s still light enough that Techno doesn’t notice when he’s bearing all of Tommy’s weight on his his arm. He only realizes that Tommy has fallen asleep when he feels drool soaking into his sleeve. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Disgusting. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wrinkles his nose but he doesn’t shove Tommy away. The kid’s already got bags under his eyes that look enough like bruises as it is. He doesn’t need any real ones. Instead, Techno turns down the flame on his potion and carefully stands and maneuvers Tommy into his arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tucks Tommy under the blankets on his bed just as the sun starts coming over the horizon. As he’s pulling the covers up to Tommy’s shoulders, Tommy groans. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dream?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.” Techno says, maybe a bit softer than he would any other time. “Not Dream, not ever again.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Soup for the Soul</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>In retrospect, it is possible that he should have kept a better eye on his health. But Technoblade doesn’t get </span>
  <em>
    <span>sick</span>
  </em>
  <span>, it just doesn’t happen. He’s too </span>
  <em>
    <span>busy</span>
  </em>
  <span> for that. So really there’s no reason for his head to be pounding, or his nose to be running, or for everything to be so damnably </span>
  <em>
    <span>hot</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tommy?” He croaks, he winces, gods his voice sounds bad, “would you quit adding shit to the fire?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy doesn’t reply, </span>
  <em>
    <span>ugh.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Techno throws his blankets off, planning to get up and smother the fire himself. Only its all the way downstairs, and suddenly that seems so very far. He sits up and the room spins wildly around him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He lays back down, pressing a hand to his head in the vain hope that it will make things hold still. It doesn’t. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He groans. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He is not sick, he can’t be. He just needs to catch up on his sleep, that’s all. He’s pretty tired. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>*** </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Technoblade?” Tommy asks, poking his head into Techno’s room. Its not unusual to only see Techno at weird times but its been longer than usual since he made an appearance. There’s a lump on the bed, vaguely human shaped underneath all the blankets. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Techno?” Tommy asks, creeping into the room. He lays a hand on Techno’s shoulder, its burning hot. He pulls his hand back. “Techno?” he asks again, more urgently. “Hey, get up!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Techno groans. “Stop….</span>
  <em>
    <span>yelling</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” he mutters, his voice is hoarse. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you </span>
  <em>
    <span>sick?</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. Just tired, go away.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy hesitates, “are you sure?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Techno mumbles something incomprehensible and rolls over, curling into himself. Tommy carefully stretches out a hand and lays it on Techno’s forehead. Its even hotter than his shoulder was. There’s no way that’s normal, he’s sick. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shit. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fuck. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Okay. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wait. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>No, he can take care of Techno. Sick people are easy, right? Its not like he’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>injured</span>
  </em>
  <span> he doesn’t need like, stitches. That would be out of Tommy’s abilities, but sick people just need...soup, he’s pretty sure. He can make soup. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Probably. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>How hard can it be? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Very hard, it turns out. He was pretty sure that soup was just supposed to be water and meat and vegetables but somehow he’s messed that up </span>
  <em>
    <span>very badly</span>
  </em>
  <span>. The first batch is more of a mush, which burns to the bottom of the pot and the whole thing has to be abandoned deep in the woods where no one will find it. The next batch he keeps a closer eye on. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It isn’t burnt, but that’s about the best he can say for it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It is buried without dignity in an unmarked grave in the back yard. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He digs through the bookshelves, he’s pretty sure there’s a cook book in here somewhere. Finally, he finds it in a back room. There’s a “simple soup” recipe laid out nice and easy, he should have </span>
  <em>
    <span>started </span>
  </em>
  <span> with this! </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Only, well. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s not really sure what half of these vegetables look like, much less if they </span>
  <em>
    <span>have</span>
  </em>
  <span> them. And he has </span>
  <em>
    <span>no idea</span>
  </em>
  <span> what ‘searing’ means in relation to meat or why he needs to do it if its all going to cook in the pot together anyway. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So maybe he takes a few shortcuts and substitutes a few other things here and there. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There can’t be </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> much difference between cumin and cinnamon right? They both start with ‘C’. Throwing a healing potion in might not be in the recipe but it just makes sense, you heal from getting sick and at that point he may as well just throw in some golden apples. Golden apples never hurt anyone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the end, he has soup, it even looks like soup, he’s pretty sure. He can pour it into a bowl at least. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Beaming with pride, he serves up a bowl and carries it carefully up to Techno’s room. “Techno!” he says, maybe a bit louder than he should have, going by the groan that rises out of the blanket bunker on the bed. “I made you soup!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The blankets rustle, “what?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I. Made. Soup.” Tommy says, holding out the bowl, “for you! That’s what you give sick people right?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Techno’s eyes blink at him from the shadows, he’s silent for a few seconds and then finally his brain seems to kick into gear, “...I’m not sick.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m pretty sure you are.” Tommy argues, “but its alright! I’ll take care of you! Like you’ve been taking care of me! It’ll be great.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Techno blinks silently, Tommy can practically </span>
  <em>
    <span>hear</span>
  </em>
  <span> the gears in his head turning and not catching in the slightest. “Come on,” Tommy cajoles, “I made it for you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He presents the bowl of soup again, “you have to eat soup if you’re sick.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Techno sighs and his hand emerges from the blankets. He takes the bowl and Tommy watches with rapt attention as he takes his first bite. Techno freezes, spoon still in his mouth, his eyes wide.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ha, Tommy totally made the best soup. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Techno coughs, “wow,” he says, “that’s. Some soup alright.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He even seems more awake already, this is going great! </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy beams, “see? I’ll have you on your feet in no time big man!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks,” Techno says with another cough. <br/></span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Be sure you eat all of that!” Tommy says. <br/></span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I will,” Techno says, looking down at the bowl of soup. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s plenty more where that came from!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh...good.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yeah, Tommy’s totally got this. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
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